Recalling the Past  Surviving the Present
by exsquared
Summary: As Sam is on the run in Death Knell, she recalls her survival training and an old friend from the Academy
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer - Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

Recalling the Past - Surviving the Present

After the Blast

Sam looked up in a daze. She was plastered against the base of a tree, literally nose to bark, and couldn't quite remember how she got there. She turned her head, wincing when she felt her cheek scrape against the rough surface. Reaching up to touch her face, she felt warm liquid and saw bright red blood on her fingers when she brought them down within sight.

"_Ok, I guess the tree won that round. What the heck am I doing here?" _

Turning her head further made her aware of a dull pain in her the back of her skull. Not as painful as the Prometheus concussion, but something must have hit her hard.

"_I couldn't have been out very long, because the blood on my cheek hasn't clotted yet. What happened?"_

Recalling the dizziness which had resulted from any head movement when she'd suffered her recent head injury, she decided to wait a minute or so before trying to look around.

"_Janet will kill me if I've managed to get another concussion so soon after the last one." _

Still disoriented, she tried to recall where she was and how she had gotten there.

"_Wait a minute, my ears are ringing."_

Testing a theory, she said out loud, "Testing, testing. Ok, that's a really stupid thing to say."

Not hearing her own voice, she concluded that she must have been injured in an explosion, with temporary deafness as a result. That explained why she had ended up going one-on-one with the tree, too. She must have been thrown by the blast. Her head jerked up as it all suddenly came rushing back to her.

"_The alpha site, the drone, the self destruct. Dad! Oh no, Dad!"_

She quickly pushed up off the ground, all worries about possible head trauma banished by concern for her father. Scanning the immediate area, she saw no sign of her father or the drone which had been pursuing them when the self destruct went off.

"_Well, that's good at least. Putting one of them at ground zero of an explosion that strong is about the only way that I know for sure will eliminate the damn things. This one may not have been at the center of the blast radius, but maybe it was enough to take it down. God, this new weapon better work. Otherwise, I don't know how we're going to beat Anubis." _

"_But where's Dad? I know that he was right behind me." _

Walking away from her landing site, she looked around, stunned by the total devastation. The trees were completely flattened, which made the area look like a logging site gone crazy. A haze filled the air, smoke from the explosion burning her eyes and making breathing difficult. She decided to head back toward the gate site, looking for her father on the way. If there were other survivors, they were likely to make their way to the gate's location as well.

Even though there were no landmarks left to indicate the correct direction, it wasn't difficult to determine where the base had been. All the destruction was aimed out from a central point, with the carnage becoming more complete the closer to the center that she got.

"DAD! DAD! CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

"_Well that's probably a waste of time. If I can't hear, he won't be able to either. Might as well just look and not yell. Just before the blast, I saw some of the guys heading toward the tree line; maybe they were far enough away from the base when it blew so that they weren't hurt. If so, I'll need to connect up with them, and we can search for any other survivors and make plans for surviving until the SGC figures out a way to get to us."_

She picked her way through the fallen trees, trying to spot any sign of her father.

"_Why couldn't Dad have worn some bright colored earth clothing instead of those earth tones that the Tok'Ra seem to love? A nice red flannel shirt would be so much easier to spot. But nooo, he has to do the blending-in bit."_

Sam suddenly remembered something he told her that morning.

"_He gave up coffee because Selmak doesn't like it. Wow. And what else did he say? When I said I didn't know that, he said 'We never talk anymore, Sam.' I know he was kind of kidding, but…"_

Her eyes filled with tears as she realized that they might not have the chance to remedy that. Up until now, she'd managed to avoid thinking about the possibility that her father hadn't survived the explosion. Now that thought drove home the fact that she hadn't spent nearly as much time with him as she would have liked.

Ironically, this mission was supposed to have allowed for that. The time at the alpha site was a quasi-leave for her. Granted, she would be working on the drone weapon, but that was almost recreational for her. General Hammond had persuaded the Tok'Ra to send Jacob to assist Sam with the refinement of the weapon, and told her that she should consider it a working vacation. He'd called her into his office and told her, "You've had a rough couple of months, Major. I'd dearly love to give you some time off, but I can't afford to. The completion of this weapon is too important to put off, and you know more about it right now than anyone else. I'll get Jacob to come and help out though, and that way I can tell myself that I gave you a family holiday." He'd looked apologetic, but she'd assured him that she was fine with the arrangement and looked forward to the "time off."

He'd added, "The least I can do is make sure that you aren't interrupted by any of us demanding your attention to a balky gate or malfunctioning computer. I'm sending you to the alpha site, where you'll not only be safe from the Goa'uld, but won't be bothered by the rest of us. I'll give strict orders to Colonel Riley to put a Do Not Disturb sign on your lab door. And I'll make sure that Jack and the rest of the team are too busy to try and make a side trip to "help" you."

She'd been relieved at the time. She would never admit it to anyone, but the injuries she'd suffered recently were taking their toll. Not physically - she felt fully recovered from the concussion and the shoulder injury - but more of a mental strain. Or maybe it was the accumulated burden of fighting almost constantly for eight years now. Whichever, she was feeling vulnerable, and maybe getting away to a safe place with her father for a week or so would help reassure her.

"_There's just something about feeling a parent's arms around you that makes everything feel better, at least for a little while. I guess we all regress to childhood at times, especially when we're hurting, and no one cares for you as much as mom and dad. When that drone hit me while we were escaping from Anubis' base, seeing Dad's face hovering over me made me feel like a little kid again, like he'd be able to fix everything so that it wouldn't hurt anymore."_

Sam brushed away the tears threatening to spill over, and resumed her search.

"_He's alive. He's got to be alive. I need him to be alive. He's alive. Even if he's hurt, Selmak will keep him alive. All I need to do is find him. He's alive. I just need to find him so that we can get back to earth and finish up the weapon so that we can finally kill these monsters. He's alive. He has to be alive so that we can finally talk some more, and I can tell him that I love him."_

With that thought, she stopped, the tears back again.

"_I really do need to tell him that, don't I? He was right. We don't talk anymore, not that we ever did all that much. Have I even told him that I started seeing someone? I don't think so. I think he'll be happy for me, but I don't have any idea as to how he'll react. Even though we're closer now than we were for a long time, we really don't know each other all that well. All right, that's going to change. When we get back, I'm going to insist that General Hammond give me some real time off, and Dad and I will take a real vacation together, maybe even go see Mark again. But no matter what, we __will__ talk."_

She reached the place where the tree line had been before the explosion, and which now just marked the boundary between downed trees and bare ground. She looked ahead to where the base had been and saw only a smoking crater. No hint of life or even ruins. No sign of the Goa'uld ships which had attacked the base. Just an empty hole in the ground surrounded by a lot more emptiness.

Something shiny and black on the ground in front of her caught her eye. She stepped closer and recognized the remains of a drone's armor half-buried under tree limbs.

"_Well, there's the proof. Blown to hell, and good riddance."_

She turned in the direction of the gate and stopped in her tracks. Her stomach lurched as she took in the sight.

"_Where's the gate?"_

Before the self destruct had gone off, she and her father had seen that the gate had been knocked over by a Goa'uld bomb, but it had still been visible, and the stairs and DHD had been intact.

Now, the site where the gate had been was bare. No Stargate, no DHD, no helpful steps leading up to the gate, no nothing.

"_Maybe I'm looking in the wrong direction. Everything does look different – anything that might have looked familiar was flattened by the blast."_

She quickly glanced around to get her bearings.

"_Yes, just behind the gate there was a little rise with a rock formation on top. I see the rise and the rock formation, and nope, no gate."_

The sinking feeling worsened. It made sense, unfortunately. A blast strong enough to level huge trees and everything else in its path could certainly knock the DHD down. But what had happened to the gate? She made her way to the site where it had been.

"_I'm sure it's buried. It couldn't have been destroyed; naquadah is virtually indestructible."_

She reached the location where she thought the gate had been, and spotted a circular ridge on the ground, buried under a thin layer of dirt and debris. Brushing off the dirt on one of the more lightly covered spots, she relaxed when she saw the familiar symbols.

The fear of being marooned diminished significantly. The SGC should be able to figure out that the gate was horizontal and would go ahead and dial through anyway. After they were here, they could raise the gate to a vertical position. They'd dealt with similar situations before.

"_Ok, so the gate looks like it might be intact. I'll have to clean it all off to be sure, but the circle looks unbroken, from what I can tell. Now, what about the DHD? It will certainly simplify things if it survived the blast."_

She didn't see the device in the immediate vicinity, and moved out away from the gate.

"_If I don't find it right away, I'm going to go back and look for Dad and any other survivors. We'll have to make camp somewhere to wait for the SGC to mount a rescue."_

"_What's that?"_

She'd heard something from the direction of the former base.

"_Good, I can hear again. Now what __was__ that? A bird? I don't remember seeing any on the planet, but I wasn't outside the camp itself very often."_

Her hearing still was not up to full strength, but the sound seemed familiar.

"_Drones' armor sounds like that when they move."_

With an increasing sense of dread, she turned toward the source. Across the expanse of burned-out terrain, from the direction which she had just come, she spotted it. A dark mass slowly rising out from under a tangle of uprooted trees.

"_Crap! It's still alive. I need to move, and now!"_

Trying to move as stealthily and quickly as possible, she headed toward the trees again, hoping to avoid detection by the drone. She was able to keep it in sight as she moved, and it seemed unaware of her presence.

"_Just a little farther and I'll be in the trees. I'm much too exposed out here."_

She was at the edge of the forest and the cover provided there, when she saw a blast hit a tree just ahead. Instinctively ducking, she plunged into the trees and felt the heat of more blasts around her. She still had a good head start on the drone, but she needed to get deeper into the woods so that she could find a place to hide and figure out a way to keep him at bay until help arrived. As she moved into the shadows, she felt a searing pain in her leg.

"_Damn, damn, DAMN!" _

She winced at the burning pain, but kept moving.

"_Can't stop now. It'll kill me if I stop. Got to keep going. Keep going, Carter! Do you __want__ to die? Keep going, damn it!"_

Running as quickly as she could although she was limping badly, she managed to actually gain some distance on the drone. It didn't move quickly to begin with, and didn't seem programmed to run and shoot at the same time. When it stopped to fire at her, she kept moving deeper into the trees. It was still hot on her trail, though, and she knew how persistent these things were. She needed to find a place to hide, and soon.


	2. Chapter 2

SERE Training

Sam heard footsteps approaching and she tried to press herself even closer to the ground.

"If at all possible, don't just blend in, become part of the terrain."

She could remember that advice from a training instructor during her first SERE training course (Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape) back at the Academy. Easier said than done. She'd barely had time to jump down this incline and hug the dirt when she'd sensed movement behind her.

"_Don't look this way. Don't look this way."_

She chanted to herself, trying to will the drone to do her bidding. Not daring to look up for fear that any movement might give her away, she held her breath as she heard him pass by just above her. Finally, the footsteps moved on, and she carefully and quietly let out her breath. Lowering her head, she sighed with relief.

"_I'll have to tell Teal'c that I mastered the Jedi mind trick." _

She'd wait a few minutes before moving, letting the drone put some distance between them first. Her leg was beginning to throb, her head didn't feel much better, and she was getting thirstier by the minute. But best not to dwell on all that.

"_Got to think about something else."_

"_I wonder how he's tracking me. Not doing a really good job, although I'm not complaining. Can't be an infrared detector, or he would have picked me up just now. When we examined the one that we took captive, I don't recall seeing any enhanced sensory organs, so it probably isn't using smell or hearing. It looked like they were just designed for fighting, not for stealth or speed, and certainly not for long life__ Strictly cannon fodder. Geez, I hope that Anubis hasn't figured out how to tweak the designs so that he can create different models – a combat model, a seek out and destroy tracker like this one seems to be, a bow down and suck up to your lord and master version."_

"_Ok, now I'm getting goofy. Time to move."_

Sam cautiously poked her head up and surveyed the surrounding area. No sign of the drone. He wasn't making any real effort to hide his movement or tracks, but she didn't want to take any chances. It was pretty clear that this particular drone, whatever model it was, was programmed to seek out one Sam Carter. It wasn't hard to figure out why, either.

It couldn't be a coincidence that one drone found her and her father working on the weapon, and now a second drone was hunting her. She had no doubt that this was a different drone than the one which had shown up at the lab. The damn things were like cockroaches, they kept coming back, but that one had gone down when her dad shot it, and would have been destroyed in the self destruct explosion. So, two different drones with the same mission meant only one thing; they wanted to destroy the weapon and anyone with the knowledge of how to make it work.

She needed to evade him for as long as possible, until someone, somehow managed to get to the planet to recover her and any other survivors. Normally, she'd be trying to seek out anyone else who had been outside the blast radius, and make plans for survival until rescue. Her personal stalker wrecked that plan. She didn't want to risk anyone else's lives, so she needed to lead him away from where she most wanted to be, in close proximity to the gate site.

She eased her way down the slope on which she'd been lying and slowly made her way opposite the direction the drone had taken.

After putting some distance between herself and the drone, she stopped again to take stock. Everything had happened so quickly back at the alpha site that she hadn't had time to gather up anything that might help her in this situation.

She and her dad barely had enough time to wipe the computers after Lieutenant Glenn informed them of the bug-out order. Then after the drone showed up and launched his attack on them, there had been no time at all. They used the weapon on the drone, immediately exited the lab, and headed toward the gate, only to see it must have been bombed by an attack ship. The gate was barely upright, tilting at a 45 degree angle with the ground. Over the loudspeaker they could hear Colonel Reilly ordering all personnel to head for the tree line, and announced the countdown was commencing. She and Jacob were running to join the others when they spotted another drone coming after them. They decided to split up and keep the weapon and the power source separate as well, so that the drone couldn't get both. They'd just separated when the blast hit, and they must have been thrown in entirely different directions.

"_No, I can't worry about Dad. He's probably hanging with the rest of the survivors and just as concerned about me as I am about him. So, what do I have that might be of use?"_

She dug through all her pockets, finding little of anything that could help.

Power unit – not much good without the weapon, bandanna - one of Daniel's?

"_Good, I can use this on my leg. Looks like it's bleeding more than I thought it would, and I better try to make a tourniquet. It should at least slow down the bleeding. I'll have to remember to thank Daniel for it."_

She tied it as tight as she dared, and went on with her inventory.

Change for the vending machines, – _"Why in the hell did they put those at the alpha site? Does Coke have a franchise agreement with the Air Force stipulating that their machines have to be placed at every base in existence? You'd think there would be a clause limiting them to earth, but I guess then someone would have to admit the need for the clause and …Damn it! Getting off track again. Focus, Sam!" _

Keys, flash drive, Leatherman all purpose knife.

"_The only really useful thing is the knife, not much of a weapon, but it does have a blade and some tools if I find anything to use them on." _

Thinking of tools reminded Sam again of SERE. She thought back to the first time she had gone through SERE training. It was during the summer between her first and second year at the Academy. All cadets were required to take the course, and while she didn't dare tell anyone at the time, she actually enjoyed the course. It had taxed her physically and mentally, yet she liked the feeling that she had at the end of the day. She was exhausted, but proud of herself for having met the challenge. She was accustomed to success in the classroom, and of course at the Academy everyone had to be involved in some kind of physical activity, but this went way beyond that. Knowing that she was able to handle the toughest conditions that the training officers could dream up gave her great deal of satisfaction. At that time women were not allowed in combat, so it seemed to be just an exercise with no real possibility for practical application. After all, why would a non-combatant have to worry about being captured or stranded?

"_Well, I guess some of us 'non-combatants' did end up in jeopardy, didn't we?"_ she mused.

What had those SERE instructors said about tools?

"The most important tool you have is between your ears. If you don't have anything else to help you survive, try to think your way out. If you're being pursued, look around, see what's available in your surroundings to help you hide or attack, whichever is most feasible. Do not plan on running forever. Your enemy can wear you down in a chase, even if you're in peak physical condition. He'll probably have the advantage in numbers, supplies and weapons. So your best chance at surviving until rescue is to hide. If a realistic opportunity presents itself, attacking your pursuer is an option, but only if you're sure that you have an excellent chance to completely take down the enemy."

"_Ok, check the surroundings. Nope, nothing here to help attack the goon, and no good hiding spot. I guess that means I need to keep moving."_


	3. Chapter 3

Air and Water

Breathing hard, harder than normal, Sam continued to move through the trees.

"_Man, I know that I'm in better shape than this. I haven't been moving fast enough or long enough to warrant the way that I feel."_

Sam realized that her leg was throbbing again, probably because she hadn't loosened the bandanna for a while. She stopped, making a complete survey of the area to be sure that the drone wasn't close, and slid down a nearby tree. She ended up sitting propped against the tree, legs stretched out in front of her. She untied the knot and could feel the circulation returning to her leg. She closed her eyes for a moment and savored the momentary relaxation, knowing that she couldn't stay there very long.

Sitting there, waiting for her breathing to return to normal, she recalled more of the advice from one SERE instructor in particular. His real name was Sergeant Milner, but the cadets all called him Sergeant Moonbeam. His training lessons included the phrases "Become one with the terrain." "Focus on your center." "Breathing is life." Discussing the last one in the barracks, the consensus was a sarcastic "No, really?" The cadets in her training group were convinced that the man was a former hippie who'd been living in a commune and had been drafted during the sixties. Instructions such as "Control your breathing if you want to control your life" were considered to be remnants from his former life in some cult.

Sam had not disagreed with their assessment, since most of the advice did seem to be a little out there. But at the end of the course, which had included an actual survival and evasion exercise, some of those phrases made a lot of sense. "Become one with the terrain." Hiding under a pile of leaves or covering yourself with dirt to blend in. "Control your breathing." Keeping quiet could keep an enemy from finding you.

As Sam knew all too well now, regulating her breathing could help with pain control as well. It couldn't eliminate the pain, of course, but it helped to focus her thoughts on something other than the pain. She'd used the technique too often in the last seven years, when pain was there, and medication wasn't.

"Long, slow breath in through the nose, out through the mouth. Use your diaphragm. Again. And again."

"Control your breathing, control your life."

A couple of years out of the Academy, when Sam had the clearance, she'd checked Sergeant Milner's record. He had come from California, as they'd all speculated; but he'd enlisted, not been drafted. He served in Vietnam, receiving a Silver Star for heroism in combat. She couldn't find anything about his life before entering the service. In a way, she was glad that she wasn't able to dig up that information. It allowed her to keep some of the mystery alive.

Sam retied the bandanna and got up. The short rest was enough to allow her to regain her breath and a little more energy, enough to propel her up and on the run again.

She continued to move, unsure if the drone was near. She hadn't spotted him in some time, but the constant movement and pain were taking their toll. She wouldn't be able to keep on much longer. She needed to find a safe place to hide for a while. But she was also incredibly thirsty, and knew that dehydration could be a concern, especially with the rising temperature. As she limped on, she heard the familiar sound of burbling water. She spotted a stream in the distance, and moved cautiously to the edge of the trees. It would be risky, leaving the cover that the trees provided, but her need for water was too great. Still inside the forest, she moved slowly parallel to the stream, looking for a spot where the stream was relatively close to the tree line. She kept up a constant surveillance of the region, looking for any sign of the drone. She was almost ready to give up and just run for the stream when she noticed a pile of logs halfway between the stream and tree line.

"_Perfect! I can use them as cover both coming and going."_

She took one last look for the drone and hurried to the logs, pausing briefly, then on to the stream. She bent over and cupped a hand into the cold water, and quickly gulped down several handfuls.

A series of blasts tearing through the air startled her. She looked up to see the drone on the other side of the stream taking aim to shoot again. She ran quickly to the logs and dove over them as his shots passed by. She poked her head over the top of the pile to see the drone advancing across the stream. She turned and ran back into the trees as he kept firing. She moved at a much faster pace than before, fueled by fear induced adrenaline.

The drone moved in pursuit, but couldn't immediately catch up with his prey. Sam took advantage of her slight lead to veer off and found a small outcropping of rock which she could squeeze behind. The drone lumbered by as she once again held her breath, waiting for him to move some distance away. Once she felt it was safe, she clambered out, determined to find a hiding place where she could recover some strength.

_Author's note: to be continued_


	4. Chapter 4

Advanced SERE

Sam walked in a direction opposite to the path the drone had taken, searching for a suitable hiding spot.

"_Gee, would a cave be too much to ask for? I'd settle for a crack in a rock wall, just big enough for an Air Force major." _

"_Wait, what's that ahead?"_

She'd seen a slight depression filled with and surrounded by branches and loose leaves.

"_Yes! I can use this."_

She worked her way down into the depression, stretched out, and covered up with the available branches, cushioning her resting spot with some of the leaves. If she was going to be here for some time, she might as well be as comfortable as possible. It was impossible to be sure that she was covered enough so that the drone wouldn't spot her if he wandered by, but she felt fairly secure for the first time in hours.

"_Thank God for all that survival training. With this much cover, I should be able to hide out for quite a while." _

She reflected back on her second experience with SERE training. Shortly before she'd gone on that first mission to Abydos, she'd requested and been allowed to go through training again, but the more rigorous version normally only offered to Special Operations Forces. General Hammond was the one who forwarded her request, and told her later that the course administrators had questioned why a woman astrophysicist would need additional survival training intended for troops at high risk of capture.

"I told them you'd been riding a desk for too long, and needed to remember what it felt like to get your hands and everything else dirty. I hope that didn't create any problems for you during training."

She reassured him that hadn't been the case, although it did explain the attitudes that she'd sensed at first from some of the instructors. The retraining had been memorable for another reason which overshadowed everything else that week.

Now after being on SG-1 all these years, having been hunted, captured, injured, and nearly killed more than once, those training exercises seemed almost tame by comparison. Stargate Command had instituted its own survival training course after the first few years. They realized that traditional survival training couldn't cover some of the unusual situations which teams going off–world might encounter. All SGC personnel were required to go through the new training course, which was run by seasoned gate team members.

Except for Jack O'Neill of course. "Been there, done that, got the scars to prove it. Why should I go through training to show me how to deal with it again?"

He didn't mind dishing it out to others though, and whenever he could be persuaded to conduct a training session, it was extremely vigorous and effective. His years of experience in black ops as well as the years as leader of SG-1 made him uniquely qualified to teach others how to survive under the most hostile conditions. Sam was grateful that he never seemed to encourage his students to incorporate his own techniques of sarcasm and insults when taken captive. He was all business when he was entrusted with teaching others how best to protect themselves, and recognized that his personal methods of survival and resistance might not be the best strategy for others.

When Sam registered for SERE before the Abydos mission, she was informed that all the instructors had first-hand knowledge of the subject matter. She took that to mean that they'd all been either prisoners and escaped or had been part of rescue teams.

As Sam reported for her first training session, the instructors were all gathered in a group at the side of the training field. Sam was surprised to see that one had a ponytail sticking out through the back of the ball cap that they all wore.

"_A woman instructor? Wow, I wonder what her story is. Rescue team or prisoner? The no women in combat rule makes either one unusual."_

The instructors broke up and moved over to the trainees, who all came to attention. The woman was at the other end of the line, so Sam couldn't see her clearly. Told to stand down, the trainees stood at ease as the instructors began to tell them what to expect that week. Sam had previously researched the training regimen, so she wasn't surprised by anything they were told. She was already thinking ahead to what would surely be an interesting week as the female instructor made her way down to Sam's end of the line. When the two women saw each other clearly, two jaws dropped in unison.

"Sam!"

"Pam!"

_Author's note: You don't think I'd really stop there, do you? Still more to come._


	5. Chapter 5

Pam and Sam

Still lying in her nest of leaves and branches, Sam felt her leg throbbing.

"_I better loosen the tourniquet for a while."_

Slowly, she reached down, creating as little sound and motion as possible. She untied the bandanna and glanced at her watch, marking the time and calculating when she should re-tie it. As she rested again, her mind wandered back to when she and Pam first became friends.

It had been a Saturday night during her second year at the Academy. She had been studying all day, and although she had a weekend leave, she hadn't planned on going out. But after 10 hours solid, she decided that she'd seen enough of the walls and bookcases in the library and needed to get some air. As she stretched her arms and stood up, her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast. There was a pizza place not far from the Academy so she decided to walk there to clear her mind and work out the kinks in her body at the same time. She had a pair of casual friends who she normally might have called up to join her, but they had taken advantage of the rare weekend off and were out of town, visiting family nearby.

As she walked, she thought about her solitary day. Her friends' absence was one of the reasons she had spent the day alone studying, but if she were totally honest with herself, it probably wouldn't have mattered if they had been in town. Most of her down time was spent on academic activities. That certainly wasn't because she needed to spend all her time studying in order to pass her courses. Most of her classes weren't easy, but weren't all that difficult either. She found that if she did the homework on a daily basis, she didn't even have to study for the exams very much. In her first year, she really didn't understand all the complaints from her classmates about the difficulty of the coursework. "It's not bad if you just keep up with the homework," she'd told her roommate. The Academy had very strict regimens for the cadets, forcing them to spend time on class work as well as time on physical activities and military training. But in her first year at the Academy, by observing her fourth class roommate, Sam discovered that sitting at your desk in front of a textbook didn't necessarily equate to actually getting work done. Ruth managed to squeak by in her classes, spending the night before exams cramming after lights out with a small flashlight. Her study habits appalled Sam, who could never stand to let things wait until the last minute like that.

Recalling it now, Sam thought _"God, I was such a tight ass back then. It's a wonder anyone wanted to have anything to do with me. Thank goodness I met Pam that night."_

Back then, and now, if truth be told, Sam needed to feel in control as much as possible. That had been one of the reasons she spent her free time in the library. After her first year's experiences, she'd known that she could keep up with her regular homework during the week and spend any weekend free time studying whatever she wanted to. At first she just read ahead in the texts, trying to get a jump start on the new material before it was presented in class. Soon it became a challenge to see if she could understand things on her own, without having the professor explain them. She kept an imaginary scorecard and gave herself points anytime she'd get it right. Now she was exploring even beyond the required texts, finding related books in the library, and trying to comprehend more complex topics. She'd seen her physics professor there a few weeks ago, and when he'd noticed what she was reading, he'd questioned her about a particular theory. Although he didn't say anything at the time, he ordered her to his office later that week. She was somewhat concerned; being summoned to a professor's office could have serious implications. But as she stood at attention in his door at the required time, he smiled and told her to stand down and enter.

"You've been asking some very good questions in class, and after talking to you in the library, I can see why. I checked your transcript, but didn't see any Advanced Physics classes listed. Have you taken a course at a different college that somehow isn't listed on your transcript?"

His question was friendly, not accusatory, so Sam relaxed, and answered, "No. sir. I just started by reading ahead in the text, then got interested and started looking for more."

"Well, I think that you've gone beyond the scope of our class, so I'm going to get you started on an independent study. You'll get credit for my class and we'll arrange for you to get credit for the independent study as well. I won't lie to you, it will be harder than what we've been doing in class, but I think that you can handle it. We'll set up a weekly meeting time, but you'll be doing most of the work on your own. Seeing you in the library makes me think that won't be a problem."

Sam was still a little stunned as she left his office. She didn't know that this was even possible. The curriculum was so structured that it hadn't occurred to her that she would be able to bypass a required course, albeit by taking a harder course instead, and doing it on her own. She made her way to her dorm room on automatic pilot, lost in contemplation of this new development, wondering what Colonel Randolph had in mind for her independent study topics. She turned a corner in the residence hall and bumped into another third year cadet, nearly knocking the smaller woman down. The cadet was Pam Sperling, a woman that Sam had never formally met, but had seen around the campus, and knew by reputation.

Sam quickly apologized. "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. Are you all right?"

The woman looked Sam over before responding. "I'm fine. What's your problem? Is that stick up your butt impeding your ability to walk?"

Sam quickly came down from the high she'd been on since leaving Colonel Randolph's office. She was taken aback by the remark. Feeling her face grow hot, she said, "Excuse me?"

"I'm just amazed that Cadet Perfect actually admitted to doing something wrong. You weren't paying attention? Wow, this may be a first! The amazing wonder woman makes a mistake, and I was here to witness it."

The sarcasm was heavy, but strangely, it wasn't delivered in a hostile tone. Pam seemed to be just throwing it out there to see how Sam would respond.

Sam's upbringing and fear of reprimands from the administration if she was involved in any altercation wouldn't allow her to respond in kind, but she couldn't let the remarks go unchallenged. She stiffly replied, "I'm glad that my imperfection could give you some entertainment. I'm sure that your inadequacies are far superior to mine."

Before Pam could respond, a group of first years came down the hall, ending the possibility of any further discussion. Walking to her room, Sam wondered what the whole incident had been about. Even though she'd never encountered her before, she knew that Pam Sperling had a reputation for a sharp tongue and quick wit. But usually that was for an audience of her friends. In this case, no one else had been around, so Pam hadn't been playing to the crowd. Sam had a strange feeling that she had just been tested in some way, and had no idea if she'd passed or failed.

Sam forgot the incident, and hadn't run into Pam either literally or figuratively since then. Colonel Randolph's independent study topics were keeping her busy, but also fascinated her. Hence her long day in the library that particular Saturday.

When she reached the pizza place, she ordered a small deluxe, and a diet soda. She sat in a booth next to the window watching the traffic outside and the patrons inside as she waited for her pizza. Unlike most of her friends, she didn't mind eating alone in restaurants, in fact enjoyed the opportunity to be by herself and just do nothing for a while. In the crowded atmosphere of the Academy, she was almost always surrounded by people, and almost always had to be somewhere and be doing something at every hour of the day. Here, even though it was full of noisy people, she felt content to be by herself. No demands, no need to make conversation, no schedule to meet. It was the first time she felt really relaxed in days.

Her pizza came and she savored the chewy crust and perfect blend of sauce, cheese and toppings. She had forgotten how good the pizza was here. She was swiping a string of mozzarella running from her chin to the plate when she heard,

"Well if it isn't Cadet Perfect."

Wiping her face with her napkin, Sam inwardly groaned and wondered which gods she had offended to deserve this irritation.

Pam plopped down next to Sam in the booth and stared hard at her neck.

Sam glared at Pam, deciding that this time she wasn't going to even pretend to be civil. "Who invited you to sit here, and what in hell are you staring at?"

"I'm looking for the on-off switch. I figure anyone as perfect as you must be animatronic like those robots at Disneyland. Do you really sleep at night, or do they just plug in your batteries to charge overnight?"

Sam flushed, angry and embarrassed at the same time. She had heard the "perfect soldier" sarcasm before, not just from Pam, although no one had ever been this direct before.

She responded, "What is your problem? Are you so insecure that you need to put everyone else down in order to feel better about yourself?"

Pam didn't blink. "Ooh, good one. That's right; psychoanalyze me, instead of examining yourself. You need to get over yourself, Miss Priss. Loosen up a bit and come down from your high horse for once."

Sam was astonished at how rapidly her pleasant evening out had devolved into a near cat fight. She didn't even know this woman, and yet Pam was almost gleefully insulting her. And to what end?

Pam continued, "I'm shocked that you actually came down from the mountain long enough to mingle with the masses. And I'm really surprised to see you here, in a bar filled with riff-raff."

Sam finally countered. "Well, knowing your reputation, I can't say that I'm surprised to see you here. That is what you do whenever you get a chance, isn't it – hang out with the low-lifes?"

As soon as she said it, she was ashamed, but not sorry that she'd responded. Why was Pam so confrontational? Sam had never heard that the woman was malicious, just sarcastic as hell. Did she want to provoke Sam into doing something for which she'd be disciplined? It just didn't make sense to Sam.

Just as Pam was about to answer, a young, slightly drunk man stumbled over to the booth. Pointing at a table in the back of the restaurant, he looked at the two women and happily announced, "Those guys over there told me you about you two."

Sam looked back and saw three of her fellow third years, trying unsuccessfully to hide their grins. Furious now, she turned on Pam, "So that's it! You're showing off for your buddies back there, aren't you? Trying to force me into making a scene in public and get a report for conduct unbecoming; is that your idea of entertainment?"

For the first time, Pam looked unsure of herself. She looked back at the table with their classmates and said,  
"No, I really don't know those guys..."

Still angry, Sam pressed on. "And I'm supposed to believe that…"

Oblivious to their interaction, the drunk interrupted. "They told me your names are Pam and Sam." He giggled and chanted, "Pam, Sam, wham bam, thank you ma'am, Sam, Pam, bam, wham, thank you ma'am."

Giggling almost uncontrollably now, he managed to get out a question, "So are you ready for a threesome? I've got a place just around the corner."

Pam and Sam locked eyes with the instant realization that they'd both been set up. Without saying a word, Pam slid out of the booth, and guided the drunk into the spot she'd just vacated. She slid back in. Sam began cooing into the man's ear, running a hand through his hair. On his other side, Pam fondled that ear and loudly said. "Is this the kind of sandwich you'd like, sweetie?"

They continued the farce for several more minutes. Once the three pranksters realized that their joke hadn't played out as planned, they came to the booth and helped to remove the drunk, who was now nearly asleep. They called a cab and escorted him out. The three men hadn't apologized for the joke, but seemed to appreciate the fact that the women had managed to turn it back on them so easily, and hadn't made a big deal about being played.

After the men left, Sam and Pam stayed. Sitting on opposite sides of the booth now, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Could you believe that?"

"I know! Wham bam, thank you ma'am? I thought they only said that in porn movies and letters to Penthouse."

"Samantha Carter! Miss Priss! What would you know about porn movies and Penthouse?"

Sam blushed. She absolutely hated how easily she turned red. "Well, that's what I've heard. I wouldn't know from first hand knowledge."

Even as the words came out, she knew that she sounded like a prudish, uptight old woman. She had been acting the way that Pam had said. And she was tired of doing what she was supposed to do all time. Of behaving the way her father or the Air Force or society said that Ladies should behave. Pam was right; she did need to get the stick out of her butt. Might as well start now.

"Oh hell. I grew up with a father in the military and an older brother, so of course I know about the letters to Penthouse and porn movies. Not a good way to learn about sex, by the way, unless you're into dwarves and really bad soundtracks."

Pam roared with laughter and said, "Now that's the Sam Carter I've always suspected was inside that robotic shell. I saw you crack a smile at one of those awful jokes that Plummer used to tell in General Psychology last year, and you caught some of the more subtle ones too, the ones that no one else was laughing at. I was almost snorting at some of his Holy Grail references, but I thought no one else must be a fan. I could see your shoulders shaking, though, so I knew you got them too. Anyone who loves Holy Grail can't be as uptight as you pretend to be. That's why I pushed you so hard. I couldn't think of another way to get closer to you. You're always studying or hanging out with the other brains, and I didn't think you'd want to talk with someone like me. It's probably a stupid way to go about it, but that's the way I am sometimes - a sarcastic bitch. Usually only with people I like, though."

After this long speech, Sam was at a loss as to how to respond. Pam was unlike anyone she'd ever known, and she was flattered that Pam had apparently sought her out and worked to forge this friendship.

Trying to keep a straight face and sound offended, she said

"Well, you certainly are a bitch, I'll give you that."

Pam looked hurt for a moment, but Sam couldn't keep a grin from breaking out, and Pam's relief was obvious.

Sam snorted, "You should have seen your face just now. It was almost as bad as when the drunk first came over."

"My face? You should have seen your face when he started chanting. I thought your head was going to explode."

"You know, it he hadn't been so over the top, I might have bought it and still be pissed at you. But what a buffoon!"

"Actually I was insulted that you'd think I'd sink so low as to be in cahoots with that bunch of yahoos. I'll have you know that my sense of humor is much more sophisticated than that."

"Oh, so Monty Python is sophisticated? That's not quite the way I'd describe the Holy Grail."

Pam laughed and said, "Well ok, so not all of my tastes are sophisticated. But there's no way I'd work with those jerks and their adolescent pranks to set up another woman. We get enough of the "boys' club" attitude at the Academy."

Sam nodded in agreement, and said, "I do get tired of smiling and accepting it all the time, don't you?

"Oh man, don't even get me started on that. We'd be here all night. I don't think of myself as a radical feminist, but these boys sure do try my patience. And I do mean boys. Too many of them act like they're still twelve-year olds."

"You're giving them too much credit. I've known twelve-year old boys who are more mature than some of these guys."

After that meeting, the two women were close friends for their remaining years at the Academy. They balanced each other. When Sam spent too much time buried in her books, Pam dragged her out for fun. When Pam needed tutoring in the hard sciences or math, Sam kept her on track. When Pam went overboard and mouthed off to the wrong person, Sam helped to smooth things over. When Sam was too shy or not forceful enough in standing up for herself, Pam helped her to be more vocal, and backed her up.

The two had different careers in mind, however. Sam wanted to fly airplanes, preferably fighter jets, with the ultimate goal of becoming an astronaut. Pam wanted to fly as well, but helicopters. They had endless debates about the merits of fixed wing versus rotary wing. Both admitted to being action junkies, and Pam used this factor as one of her main arguments in favor of piloting helicopters.

"Face it Sam. The no-combat rule means that you'll never be a fighter pilot, so you'll never get close to actual combat in an airplane. But women are allowed to fly helicopters in support roles, which means that they can get close to combat. In a helicopter, I might actually get a chance to do some good – to do something to defend the country or at least help the guys that are in combat."

Of course this particular debate was never resolved. Neither could be persuaded to change their minds, and after graduation each requested assignment in their preferred field.

Over the years, Sam and Pam kept in touch by phone and mail, but then Sam lost track of Pam. One year, the usual birthday and Christmas cards from Pam didn't come, and Sam's cards to Pam were returned. Sam attempted to find out where Pam was stationed, but ran into roadblocks whenever she tried. When she talked to Pam's family, they were evasive, saying only that they hadn't heard from her lately.

Eventually, Sam gave up, assuming that Pam would contact her when she was ready or when she returned from whatever assignment kept her out of touch. Finding her friend at SERE was totally unexpected.

_Author's note:_ _still not done_


	6. Chapter 6

Reunion

"Sam!"

"Pam!"

The exclamations were loud enough to draw puzzled looks from the other instructors and trainees.

"You two know each other, I take it?" This from the head instructor.

Pam's mouth snapped shut, then she forced out a "Yes sir – a long time ago."

"You can gossip later. We've got business to attend to now."

Sam could see the tension in Pam's neck, so she kept her mouth shut and resolved to be as inconspicuous as possible.

"_Yeah, right. I'm the only female trainee, she's the only female instructor; we've already drawn attention to our previous friendship. "_

The rest of the first day was as expected, extremely rigorous. She had to give credit to the instructors – they didn't treat her differently from the other trainees. And her fellow trainees seemed to accept her without question, assuming that she had good reason to be there. After all, they weren't in competition; they were all in the same boat. Cooperation in these exercises meant survival, and they all knew it.

As they left the training field for the resident dorms, Pam approached Sam and said, "There's a pizza place close by. Meet there later?"

Sam grinned. Pam obviously remembered that other meeting as well as she did.

"Sure. Let me shower and change."

Pam wasn't involved in any of the first day's training activities, so Sam hadn't had a chance to talk or even take a good look at her friend. Now that she looked more closely, Pam was thinner, but also very fit. Of course she would have to be in good shape if she was running exercises at SERE. But, why was she here? What could she have been involved in that would qualify her to be an instructor? Whatever it was, it probably would explain why she and Sam had lost touch.

The two women walked to a local outlet of a pizza chain, and the walk was strangely silent. The Pam that Sam knew had always been chatty and outgoing, but this Pam didn't say anything beyond their original greetings. She held herself rigidly as they walked and seemed to be on the alert for the entire two block walk.

"_What's happened to her?"_ Sam wondered.

After ordering pizza and a pitcher of beer, they sat awkwardly, saying nothing.

Sam was the first to break the silence. "God, this feels like a bad blind date."

Pam looked surprised, then snorted. "When have you ever been on a blind date?"

"Don't tell me you've forgotten that you set me up with that pasty-faced third year, Billy Something? The one who was a huge Star Trek fan. He did the Spock live-long-and-prosper salute all night. I was tempted to pull his fingers apart and make a wish."

"Oh yeah! That's right. I did do that, didn't I? I told him that you had a crush on Spock because he was the intellectual one." Pam was laughing out loud now.

Sam's jaw dropped for the second time that day. "You what? I spent three hours with that creep. Now I know why he kept telling me how high his SAT's were and what his GPA was."

Sam couldn't help laughing now, recalling that interminably long night – listening to the twerp drone on and on about his supposedly high IQ and his impending membership in MENSA.

God, she missed this. She and Pam, sharing food, drinks, and laughs.

But Pam's laughter stopped abruptly, and she looked surprised.

"I haven't laughed that hard since …"

"Since when?" Sam asked.

But Pam's face closed up.

Sam tried again. "Come on Pam, what's going on?"

Just then, the pizza arrived, allowing Pam to avoid the question. As they ate, they went through ritual small talk, catching up on mutual friends and classmates.

When the subject of families came up, Sam casually said, "You know, I talked to your folks a while back."

Pam almost inaudibly replied, "Yeah, they told me that you called. I wasn't ready to talk to anyone then."

Sam interpreted this to mean that she might be willing to talk now, so gently asked, "Is there anything I can do to help now?"

Pam's head was down, as if she weren't able to look Sam in the eyes. "It was a bad time, but I'm over the worst of it now."

Sam was unsure how to respond to this. Things were clearly not normal, but Sam didn't want to push Pam into talking about topics which disturbed her. She was just about to speak when Pam looked up and said decisively, "Sam, you have to be up early tomorrow, and you have a really tough week ahead. This isn't the time to go into it, but let's meet here at the end of your training. I'm still not sure if I'm ready to talk, but I've felt more comfortable in the last hour than I've felt in a long time. It almost feels like old times."

Sam was relieved to see that Pam's demeanor had lightened up considerably, and they made their way back to the dorms, chatting about the upcoming training exercises.

"You know these guys probably all figure that we're former lovers after this morning, don't you?" Pam asked.

"I didn't think of that, but you're probably right. Maybe that's good. If they all think that, they might not hit on me. I have a feeling that I'm going to be too busy and too tired to deal with any romantic advances."

"Oh you'll be busy all right. And don't think that I'll take it easy on you, just because we're friends."

Sam laughed at that. "I know you better than that. Just try not to make me look too bad since you probably know all my best moves and you know how I think."

Pam sobered up, and said, "No, I won't be any harder on you than the guys, but I won't pull any punches, either. You know how it is for women in this business."

"Have to be twice as good to get half as far." Sam said in unison with her.

"Amen to that."

The week went by quickly and was just as tough as Pam had predicted, and as Sam had anticipated. The knowledge that she might actually be in a position to use these survival techniques motivated Sam to soak up as much as she could in the short time before the Abydos mission. She felt that she did well, better than some of the trainees, not as well as others, but she knew that didn't matter. Bottom line, the reason for the program was to teach them all ways to survive in dire situations.

At the end of the week, Sam and Pam met again at the same restaurant. They hadn't talked all week – both had been busy with respective tasks. Pam seemed much more relaxed than during their previous meeting.

"You held your own out there, Sam. I'm proud of you." She tipped her beer mug to Sam in salute.

Sam ducked her head, embarrassed by the praise from her friend. "Thank you. I was impressed with you too. You really know your stuff, and how to teach it."

"Unfortunately, I learned it the hard way." Pam stopped, looked away from Sam, and took a long drink from her mug.

Sam's curiosity urged her to question Pam, but she held back, merely suggesting "We can talk about it or not. It's completely up to you."

Pam turned, looked directly at Sam, and instead of opening up to Sam, confronted her with a question of her own.

"Just why are you really here, anyway? I read the administrator's comments about a general wanting you to get out from behind a desk, but we both know that's a load of b.s. Believe me; I know that no one goes through this course without good reason. So why are you here?"

Sam had been expecting the question. Pam was too smart and knew her too well to accept the cover story. She sighed and replied, "It's classified."

Pam was incredulous. "Classified? You're an astrophysicist, for God's sake! What could you possibly be doing that requires this type of training? Are you part of some top-secret astronaut program?" The last question was delivered in Pam's trademark sarcastic form.

Sam patiently replied, "I'm sorry. I really can't tell you."

Pam still looked doubtful, and somewhat unhappy that her friend wouldn't even hint at her current job description. But Pam knew that classified meant just that, and she had no right to question Sam any further.

"Ok, fine. Can you at least tell me where you're stationed, so that I know where to send mail?"

Sam was relieved that Pam understood her need to keep quiet on the topic, and very glad that Pam wanted to maintain contact after being out of touch for so long.

"I'll be at Cheyenne Mountain, near Colorado Springs."

"NORAD?"

"Can't say."

Pam grinned and said, "Can't blame a girl for trying."

Sam decided to take advantage of Pam's good mood, and broach the sensitive subject of Pam's recent history. She poured more beer for them both and asked, "So what have you been up to? Last time I heard, you were flying Huey's in Florida. Where'd you go after that?"

Smugly, Pam said, "It's classified."

Feeling swatted down, Sam said, "I guess I deserve that. You really can't tell me, huh?"

Pam seemed to deflate a little, and replied, "Actually it was classified up until a short while ago. I guess enough time has passed so that the information could be released."

She went on. "Before the ground war started in Desert Storm, but after Iraq invaded Kuwait, Navy SEALS penetrated the Kuwait coast. I flew a combat recovery Pave Hawk helicopter for emergency evacuation coverage."

Sam was astounded. She'd known that women had flown support helicopters during Desert Storm, and had wondered at the time if Pam was one of them. But she hadn't heard about women flying missions before the war.

Pam continued in a flat voice. "It was a night operation, and we had a mechanical failure. Just one of those dumb things – probably a $2 bolt came loose at the wrong time. I tried every trick I knew to keep us up, but we went down – hard. Two of the crew died in the crash. Three of us were injured, none of us too badly. One of the guys broke his arm and both of them had minor burns. I only broke a couple of ribs and had a concussion."

"I guess that we were lucky and came down on land, otherwise we would have drowned for sure. As it was, within minutes of the crash, we were surrounded and captured by Iraqi's."

Pam stopped, clearly having difficulty with the account. "It was pretty bad, Sam. I won't – can't go into details; it's just too hard. There was no way of keeping time while we were there, but we found out later that it was five months. Eventually we were rescued by a squad of marines – by accident, it turned out. No one even knew that we were still alive. They'd sent out the MIA's to our families and privately told some of them that we were presumed dead."

She stopped now. No emotion showed in her face, but her fists were clenched on the table, and tension was evident in her rigid posture. The lack of emotion in her face and voice concerned Sam almost as much as Pam's horrifying story. Pam should be reacting somehow – anger, bitterness, sadness – something. It was possible that she'd gone through all those already, but it didn't feel like that. Pam had never been afraid of showing how she felt. It was one of the differences between Sam and her. Sam tended to clamp down on those feelings, a result of her dad's influence, she knew. Pam was the one who convinced her to let it out at times, to not keep everything bottled up. Now, Pam was shutting down, and the little that Sam knew about psychology told her that this wasn't at all healthy.

"Holy crap, Pam! How did you deal when you came home?"

Pam gave a bitter laugh. "I played good soldier. It was all classified, so I couldn't tell the family. I was in the hospital for a while; the ribs hadn't healed properly, so the doctors had to take care of them and some other stuff that happened while we were held."

Sam knew that she couldn't begin to imagine what the "other stuff" might have been, and it was clear that Pam didn't want to share that information. She asked, "How about counseling? Isn't that mandatory?"

"Yeah, I talked to a shrink while I was in the hospital, but you know how it is. If they think that you're the least bit unstable, they'll declare you unfit for duty, and kick you out. I convinced them that I was ok. They gave us a month of leave after we recovered, and then put us back on duty. I'm still flying, which I love, and a few times a year I come here to help with the training exercises."

Sam understood Pam's reluctance to confide in military psychiatrists. It was a common attitude in the service. When she was a kid, she'd overheard her father's complaint to her mother about a "damn fine pilot taken off duty just because some shrink thinks his mother didn't love him enough." But Sam knew Pam, and this wasn't Pam anymore.

"Have you talked about this to anyone else?"

Pam looked at her in disbelief. "Who? Like I said, it was classified until not too long ago, so I couldn't talk to anyone before that. By the time it was declassified, I'd convinced everyone that I was fine."

She sighed heavily. "Sam, I know that I'm not entirely ok, but I also know that I am fit for duty. I'm not drinking too much, not doing drugs; I'm showing up for work every day and doing a good job, by the way. I'll be damned if I'm going to a shrink and be told that I have to quit doing what I love."

"But just telling you this tonight has helped a lot. Thank you."

Sam looked at Pam for a long moment, considering what to say. "Pam, you really need to talk to a professional. I'm glad that it's helped to talk to me, and I'll be here to listen any time that you need me. But I don't know enough to tell you what you can do to make yourself feel better. I understand completely that you don't want to see an Air Force psychiatrist. Is there any way that you could afford to see a civilian counselor? If you could do that, it wouldn't have to jeopardize your career."

Sam knew that Pam's family was very well to do, so money shouldn't be an issue. She decided to push Pam more, even if it meant fighting dirty.

"Pam, I know that you believe you're doing a good job, but what if that doesn't continue? Don't get me wrong, I trust you and I'd fly with you any time, but if this keeps eating away at you, you could make a mistake. You don't want to be responsible if someone gets hurt."

Pam looked so devastated that Sam immediately felt horribly guilty, and almost apologized. She stopped herself, though, and thought, _"She really needs to hear this, and it's best if it comes from a friend."_

Pam slowly opened her mouth, and then closed it without speaking. When she opened it again, she very quietly said, "Damn you. I'm supposed to be the bitch, not you."

She took a deep breath. "You're right. I've already got two deaths on my conscience, and I don't need any more. I'll call my dad tomorrow and see if he can discretely find a good counselor."

Sam hesitantly asked, "Still friends, then?"

"Oh, I suppose so. Who else will there be when I need to bitch about my shrink?"

The evening ended shortly after that, and when Sam returned from the mission to Abydos, a short message from Pam was waiting.

"Hi astrogeek! Took your advice and it's already helped. Call when you get a chance.

Pam"

After that, the two kept in contact, making an effort to meet in person whenever their irregular schedules allowed it. Pam's counseling sessions helped her to turn a corner. Most of the time, her eyes were lively again, and she seemed to be back to enjoying life, not just enduring it. She'd never be the same person that she was before her capture, but Sam could see a real difference. After a while, Pam was even able to open up to Sam about some of her experiences while she was a prisoner.

Sam came back to reality with a jolt. She'd been halfway dozing as she reminisced about Pam, but now she heard something. What was that buzzing overhead? Did she dare look?

She peeked up through her leafy cover, and spotted a UAV flying in the distance.

"_All right!"_

She quickly sat up and used her watch to reflect the sun, hoping that the UAV could use it to pinpoint her location. A sudden shot from her left ended the flight. Sam lay back down and swiftly used the branches to cover back up as the drone walked by, moving in the direction that the UAV had gone down. As soon as he was out of sight, she'd head to the crash site too.

At last she allowed herself to feel some hope. The gate must be back up; SGC teams were probably on planet and searching. Her chances of survival had just increased significantly.

_Author's note: more chapters await you_


	7. Chapter 7

Triumph and Relief

Sam quickly but carefully worked her way to the downed UAV. She knew that the drone would most likely be on his way as well. She was faster, even with her leg injury, but couldn't waste any time. When she spotted the crashed vehicle, she moved closer, constantly scanning for the drone. She reached the broken heap, and examined it, looking for anything that might be of use. She had hoped that the onboard camera would be functional, but it was crushed underneath the wreckage.

"_I guess I couldn't expect it to be that easy. Wait – is that a missile? Finally, a weapon! Now I just need to hot-wire it to the UAV's firing mechanism. My Leatherman is going to come in handy after all."_

As she worked to set up the missile, she continued to watch for the drone. When it was ready, she lodged the UAV into the rocks, with the missile mounted on a wing, and aimed it the spot where she calculated the drone would exit the trees. Her choice of trajectory was based on his path when she last saw him, and the assumption that he was headed here.

"_It's a gamble, but these damn drones seem to be fairly predictable. Not much imagination or initiative. I just have to give it a shot. If nothing else, the explosion should be big enough to alert anyone searching, so if it doesn't destroy the drone, they'll know where to find my body." _

Shaking her head at that thought, she made a mental correction.

"_No – gotta think positive."_

In a few minutes, she spotted the drone stalking out of the trees right where she wanted him. Unfortunately, he saw her as well, stopped, and started firing at her. She ducked down behind the rocks near the UAV, and connected the wires to fire the missile. It slammed into the dirt just next to the drone, setting off an enormous blast. Rocks and dirt showered down on her, and when it seemed safe, Sam carefully peeked over the top of the rocks.

It was gone.

Sam slowly moved to the impact site. No sign whatsoever of the drone.

"_Thank God. It's over."_

Now that the danger was past, she let herself relax. She leaned back on a bank of dirt, and recalled something that Pam told her about her months of captivity, and finally their rescue.

"I didn't realize how truly exhausted I was until it was all over. While I was still captive, I had to keep going – not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. It was a massive strain. I had to be on alert at all times, watching out for whatever abuse or attack might come next, and was constantly trying to figure out a way to escape. I couldn't lose my temper or react emotionally at all, because they would take advantage of that. At SERE, I talked to guys who were prisoners at one time or another, and from what they told me, locking down your emotions was a typical reaction. It's common sense in a way; don't give your captors any ammunition to use against you. But it also came about because you had to focus your thoughts on survival, and that left no room for anything else.

Anyway, once the rescuers showed up and got us to a base hospital where we knew that we were safe, I just collapsed. It was as if my entire body had been clenched tight for the entire time, and I could finally let go. I think I slept for three days straight."

Right now, Sam fully understood that feeling. She'd been running on adrenaline for hours, and now the drone was finally out of the picture. She was exhausted, and could feel the energy draining out of her body.

"_I'll give myself a couple more minutes, and then if I can actually summon the strength to move, I better start looking for…"_

A movement from the ground nearby caught her eye, and her head whipped around in astonishment as an arm shot up out of the ground.

Her thought processes were as sluggish as her body, and she could only look on in horror as the drone rose up out of the ground, dirt pouring off his armor.

"_That...can't…be. He was…gone."_

The drone's arm slowly came up, and he took aim at Sam, dead center, and too close to miss this time.

She gulped and tried to move, knowing that it was too late, that she was about to die, wishing….

Suddenly, amazingly, a shot struck near the drone. Distracted, he turned away from Sam as several shots followed the first. The drone returned fire, and his inattention to Sam allowed her to escape.

Limping back to the UAV, she crouched behind the rocks again, and saw Teal'c and Colonel O'Neill firing at the drone.

"_God, I love those guys."_

She heard the colonel approaching and anticipated his request.

"Carter, I need the …"

She held out the power unit, and then watched as he snapped it into the new weapon.

Two shots later, the drone was down.

She was afraid to hope that it was down for good this time. He'd fooled her once, and she needed reassurance.

She asked the colonel "Is it…"

Jack responded confidently. "Yeah, he's dead."

Then, less confidently, "Right, Teal'c, he's dead?"

Apparently convinced by Teal'c that the drone was indeed gone, Jack turned to Sam, who was now slumped against the rocks.

"Yeah, he's dead."

Then after a moment, "You wanna get up?"

Sam's fatigue had returned in force. She wasn't sure if she could get up, but she couldn't tell him that. Showing weakness to anyone, especially the colonel was simply unacceptable in her mind. So she compromised.

"I just need to rest a minute."

Jack looked down at the wounded, clearly wrung-out officer next to him. It was unusual for Sam to even ask for that much and it spoke volumes about her physical state.

He quietly said, "Come here."

Jack was not a man who was averse to touching others. He knew that a pat on the back or a hand on the shoulder could often mean more than words could express. So now, he did what was natural to him, comforted Sam by putting his arm around her.

She surprised him by not just leaning into his arm but also resting her head on his shoulder.

Jack considered her reaction. _"She must be almost out of it. She usually doesn't let any of us comfort her like this." _

Not wanting to disturb her by reaching for his radio, he called to Teal'c.

"Contact the base camp, and let them know that we found Carter and neutralized the drone at the UAV crash site. Tell them that we need medics, but it's not an emergency situation. They should notify General Hammond as well."

Sam was vaguely aware of the colonel's instructions to Teal'c, but everything seemed remote. She couldn't focus and didn't really care to. It felt good to just let her mind drift for a while.

Then her head snapped up as she was reminded of the beginning of this whole nightmare.

"My dad! Is he…?"

She couldn't finish the question, suddenly fearful of the answer.

Jack quickly responded. "Jacob's fine. He broke a leg, but Selmak already took care of that. He's been more concerned about you than anything else."

Her worry relieved, Sam allowed herself to relax against the colonel's supporting form. Now that he and Teal'c were here, she finally felt safe. Her team had come, just as she knew they would.

_Author's note: I can't quit now, can I?_


	8. Chapter 8

Returning to the Gate

Jack was somewhat surprised to see Janet arrive with several airmen and a medic.

"I didn't think that you made house calls, Doc."

"I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I might as well come by and check on the major while I was here."

The casual response didn't fool Jack or Teal'c. In the past, the doctor admitted to them that she didn't really like gate travel all that much. She was completely willing to make an off-world trip when necessary, and had done so numerous times, but as she put it, "The only ride that I can endure at the amusement park is the carousel, and I get queasy just looking at some of those rides. Why would I enjoy taking a trip wilder than anything those ride designers could ever imagine?"

Most of the time, she wasn't required to go off-world, since she could generally save more lives in the infirmary with a full team of assistants and the best medical equipment at hand. But if someone was wounded so severely that they needed more medical attention than each team's designated medic or even a field medic could provide, and when transport was deemed too dangerous, a staff MD was needed on the scene to provide immediate care. As CMO, she could have opted out of that rotation, but she felt it was important to set an example for the rest of the staff, so she made the trips when she was on duty. Once or twice, doctors had been assigned to the SGC who seemed to believe that their duties stopped at the infirmary doors. That had been in the early days of the program, and those individuals hadn't lasted long. The screening process was better now, and doctors coming in were told in advance of the expectations and possible dangers.

When the first survivors were discovered here, a group of field medics had been dispatched to assist the wounded, and help transport them to the gate's location. A medical staging site was established close by, since patients couldn't leave the planet until the gate could be erected again. With evidence that the drones were still on the planet, it was well protected by SGC marines, and would be vacated quickly as soon as the gate was upright. Jack had seen Janet there earlier when they brought Jacob back. She had looked hopeful when they arrived with Jacob, but when she saw that Sam wasn't with them he could read the same disappointment in her face that he felt.

Jack was well aware that Janet had gone back to earth with the most seriously wounded when the gate was operational again, and that she must have come back through once she heard that they'd found Sam. He allowed her bogus "in the neighborhood" story go unchallenged, grateful that she'd once again put aside her personal discomfort with gate travel in order to help and heal Sam. Although Sam's injuries didn't appear to be life-threatening, he felt better knowing that Janet was there to not only see to Sam's physical ailments, but to help her emotional state as well.

Janet took a quick look at Sam, assessing her overall condition before getting to the specifics. Obvious injuries to head and leg. Bleeding from the ears, no doubt as a result of the blast, a couple of facial cuts, a severe burn on the leg, probably the result of a hit from the drone. She took in the improvised tourniquet, and the glazed eyes.

She crouched down and said, "Sam, I'm going to do the usual checks, ok? Pulse, lungs - you know the drill. I can see your leg injury, and that you took a hit to your head. Can you tell me if you've got any other major problems that I should know about? Ribs ok? I don't want to hurt you unnecessarily while I check you out, so tell me where you hurt now, before I start examining you."

Not getting a response, she reached over to take Sam's pulse, and said firmly and directly into Sam's face, "Sam, can you hear and understand me? It's important that you let me know how you're feeling."

Sam glanced up, dazed and exhausted. "I hear you Janet. Just really tired."

"I can see that, Sam, but I need you to stay awake for a little while longer. What hurts?"

"Head and leg, mainly."

"Mainly? Does that mean something else is giving you pain, but not as bad as those?"

"Maybe a rib, left shoulder's…" her voice trailed off, as she zoned out again.

"Sam… Sam!"

Janet momentarily gave up on Sam as a source of information, and turned to the colonel.

"Has she lost consciousness at any point since you found her?"

"No; she's been like this. She didn't pass out, but she hasn't been really alert either. You don't think that there's something seriously wrong, do you?" Jack was a little more concerned now.

"She's not in shock, so I don't think so. Give us some privacy, would you, so that I can check her ribs and shoulder. I'll run a couple of other simple tests, and should have a better idea after that."

Jack told Teal'c and the airmen to move away, allowing Janet and the medic to examine Sam more thoroughly. After a few minutes, Janet reported back to Jack.

"You can relax, Colonel. She's really not bad, all things considered. Her injuries look garish, and are probably painful, but not serious. I was mainly concerned that she might have suffered another concussion. Her last one was severe, and on first sight today, I worried that she might be in trouble. But there's no evidence of severe head trauma. I think that the sluggish reactions are just a result of exhaustion and pain."

She continued, "I do want to get her back to the infirmary as soon as possible. I'll hook up an IV now, get some fluids and pain meds into her, and we should see a difference pretty quickly."

Jack nodded in understanding and watched as Janet and the medic went to work. Janet's prediction was accurate. Within minutes, some color returned to Sam's pallid face. She looked up, her eyes clearer now. She noticed the IV in her arm, and directed a look towards Janet.

"Thanks, I feel a lot better now."

Janet knew Sam too well, and interpreted this statement as a ploy to convince Janet that she was well enough to make the trek back to the gate under her own power.

"You may feel better, but you're certainly not in good shape. Let's get you back home where I can really fix you up."

Janet asked the airmen to bring a stretcher over.

"Sam, how do you want to do this? Should they just lay it down on the ground and have you scoot over onto it, or would you rather that we give you a boost?"

Jack admired the deft way that the doctor had given Sam a choice while making it absolutely clear that Sam would be traveling on the stretcher, not walking. _"Damn, the doc's good. Sneaky, but good. But I guess I already knew that."_

Sam knew that she had lost this battle before it even began, and deep down, she was relieved. It would be a long walk back to the gate, and as tired as she was, it would be better if she didn't slow everyone down. However, she hoped to get Janet's approval for one concession.

"Ok, Janet, I can scoot over. When we get to the gate, I should be rested enough to walk through."

She looked directly into Janet's eyes during this statement, knowing that Janet would understand. Sam had often told her friend that she really hated the idea of being carried through the gate. Coming down that ramp, flat on her back, in front of the general, the technicians, and anyone else in the gate room made her feel horribly helpless and exposed.

Janet matched Sam's stare, hearing the unspoken request. She gave a slight nod, and said, "We'll see when we get there. Maybe if we can find someone willing to give you a hand just to be sure that you don't stumble and do more damage."

Jack opened his mouth to volunteer, but was preempted by a deep voice from behind him.

"I would be most honored to assist Major Carter through the gate."

Sam looked past the colonel to Teal'c and smiled. "Thank you, Teal'c."

Janet nodded in satisfaction. "Ok, now that we've made all our travel arrangements, shall we be on our way?"

The airmen and the medic helped Sam get positioned on the stretcher, and the group made their way to the Stargate.

The trip was without incident and much shorter than Sam had imagined. On the way, she questioned the colonel about the attack on the base, and he informed her that it wasn't clear who was responsible. He did give her the number of casualties and survivors. After hearing that news, she was silent for a long time, digesting the enormity of the attack.

When they reached the gate, there were only a few marines present. It was obvious that the rescue effort had moved on to the recovery phase. Several body bags were there, waiting for their final trip to earth.

Janet asked Sam, "Are you all right? You've been awfully quiet."

Sam was slow in answering. "Yeah, it's just…I was so lucky."

Jack heard her response.

"I wouldn't call a super soldier tracking your ass, or that hole in your leg lucky! You did what you were supposed to do – survive in spite of terrible odds. Sure you were given a chance, but it was a pretty slim one, and you made the best of it. Don't belittle what you accomplished as mere luck. It was some damn fine soldiering."

He flashed a cocky grin, and said, "Come to think of it, I'm sure it came as a direct result of the examples set by your fearless CO."

Teal'c's eyebrow rose at that comment, and he approached Sam's stretcher.

He offered his arm down to her and queried, "Major Carter, shall we give the colonel an example of real courage?"

Sam looked a question at Janet, who nodded her head.

Sam stood up with Teal'c's help. It took a moment to clear her head, and he waited patiently.

"I'm ready now."

She held tight, reassured by his strength and stability. Together they walked through the wormhole. Exiting, Teal'c held her close, assuring that she couldn't fall. She was grateful for the support. Whatever Janet had given her seemed to be wearing off, and the pain and lethargy were returning.

She looked up the control room to see the general and Daniel looking down, relief and concern evident on their faces. She just managed to lift her head in acknowledgement. With Janet following closely behind, she and Teal'c made their way to the infirmary.

Sam made it to the nearest bed and collapsed onto it, allowing herself to finally give in to the sleep which she had been craving.

_Author's note:_ _one more chapter to go_


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's note: This is it, the last chapter, and I just want to say thanks for all the kind reviews. Opening email this week has been a real joy, as if I'd gotten a little injection of happiness with each of your messages. Thank you!_

Pam

When Sam woke up in the infirmary, she was pleased to see her father there. But then he gave her the bad news about the Tok'Ra alliance going sour, and his need to spend an indeterminate amount of time trying to smooth things over.

Sam was concerned about the alliance, but also disappointed. She'd so much wanted to take some time off with her father, but now…Once again, duty interfered. When she was growing up, it was his duty; when the Stargate program first started, her obligations prevented father and daughter from spending time together. Once he and Selmak joined, at least they saw each other more often, but it was usually related to one catastrophe or another.

Now, it seemed that yet another promise was to be broken – the one she'd made to herself to spend time with her father and tell him how she felt about him.

Jacob kissed her, and told her that he'd be back eventually. Sam told him, "I'll miss you."

He answered, "I'll miss you too. Bye."

He moved to the infirmary doors, but Sam came to a sudden decision. This time, she couldn't just let him go. This time, she would talk to him.

She called out to him, "Dad, before you go, do you remember Pam Sperling? You met her when I was at the Academy."

He was puzzled by the question, but replied, "Yeah – she was that wild friend of yours, right?"

"I wouldn't exactly call her wild, but yes, that's her. Did I ever tell you that she was one of the training instructors at the advanced course of SERE?"

"No. Wow, that's impressive. You have to be top-notch to run those exercises."

"She was a great instructor. I thought about her a lot while I was on the run back at the alpha site. Well, not just Pam, but all the survival instructors. Their suggestions and all the training really helped."

"I'm glad. I'm certainly indebted to anyone who helped to keep you alive."

Jacob wondered what this was all leading to. Was Sam just trying to keep him here a little longer, or did she have a point to make?

He asked, "Are you still in touch with Pam? As I recall, you two were pretty close. Maybe you should let her know how effective the training is."

Sam sadly responded, "No, I haven't talked to her in a long time. But after I'm out of here, I'll make sure to contact SERE and let them know how much I appreciated their training. You're right; they should be told that they're doing a great job."

She shook her head, forcing herself to get to the point.

"I'm sorry to keep you, Dad, but I thought about you a lot, too. I just want to say – please take care of yourself. I love you."

Jacob was a little surprised by her last statement. The two of them had never been good at expressing those kinds of emotions out loud, even though the feelings were definitely there. He felt guilty that he had to leave her now, but at least he could tell her how he felt and try to reassure her.

"I love you too, Sam, and I will be back."

This time she let him leave, and her head fell back on the pillow.

A week later Sam sat in the passenger seat of a rental car, on her way to visit Pam again, a visit that was long overdue. Upon her release from the infirmary, she told Janet of her plans. Janet had reservations, but understood the need for the trip.

"Sam, I know that you feel a lot better, but you're not completely recovered yet. That leg is still bad, and the meds that you're taking aren't conducive to a long drive alone. Find someone to go along, and I'll approve it. I wish that I could go with you, but right now it's impossible for me to leave. Are you sure that you can't wait for a week or so?"

Sam couldn't explain the urgency that she felt, not even to herself, so she just shook her head, and agreed to find a companion for her trip.

She briefly considered asking the colonel. He would have done so, she knew, but his own experiences as a captive in the Gulf War were too close to what Pam had endured. She preferred not to expose him to an experience which might trigger painful memories.

Daniel – Daniel would be caring and sympathetic, eager to help in any way that he could, maybe too eager. Right now, she wanted silence and time to reflect. She didn't think that she could ask Daniel for that, to basically shut up for a day or so, not without hurting his feelings.

That left Teal'c. He was the ideal choice. When she explained her desire to see an old friend in another state, and Janet's conditions, he offered his help immediately.

"I would be pleased to accompany you, Major Carter."

As they traveled, first by plane, and now in the rental car, he allowed her the solitude she needed. Yet he was a solid presence, strong and supportive.

Now, Teal'c followed her directions, and they drove through the gates and parked. She eased her way out of the car, carefully placing weight on her injured leg. As Teal'c came around the car to be sure that she was steady, she looked up and said, "Thank you Teal'c; I'm fine. I can walk the rest of the way myself, and I'd like some time alone."

Teal'c nodded in understanding, and stepped back to the car.

Sam slowly limped through the rows of white headstones. As always when she visited a national cemetery, reserved for veterans and their families, she was flooded with emotions. Sadness, of course, for so many lives lost. Pride, - proud of all those who had gone before and sacrificed so much for their country, but also a pride that she too served not only her country, but the entire world. Awed at all the lives represented here by the endless lines of simple markers.

The symmetry of the markers and the well kept green grass between them created a beauty that she newly appreciated each time that she came. It didn't matter which one of the national cemeteries that she visited, they all invoked the same feelings. There was a sacred feeling here, not necessarily in the religious sense, but in the sense that those here deserved to be honored.

Reading the inscriptions as she walked along was almost like reading a history book.

MATTHEW R PLANTER

SGT

US ARMY

WORLD WAR II

SEP 16 1920

JUN 21 1944

JOSEPH S BANKS

CPL

US MARINE CORPS

VIETNAM

JAN 2 1950

MAR 11 1995

and on and on.

Sam kept moving, coming to a stop in front of

PAMELA T SPERLING

MAJ

US AIR FORCE

PERSIAN GULF

MAY 16 1969

NOV 23 1999

When Sam and the others went on that first mission to Abydos, it was supposed to be one-time-only trip. At that point, they only knew one destination through the Stargate. Daniel's discoveries on Abydos revealed more addresses, which of course led to the expansion of the Stargate program. The approval for more teams came almost immediately, and Sam was sure that Pam would be a natural fit for the program. But Pam was still in a fragile mental state at that time. She had just begun counseling, and Sam knew that Pam wouldn't be able to pass the stringent psychological testing required of the SG teams.

A year and a half after the start of the SGC, when Pam's progress was evident, Sam submitted her name to General Hammond. Even though no new teams were being formed, replacements were needed, and Sam hoped that Pam could be added to the pool of candidates. General Hammond agreed with Sam's assessment of Pam's capabilities, and the approval process began. Of course, Sam couldn't tell Pam about the program or that she was involved herself. All Pam knew was that she was being considered for a top-secret program. She confessed that much to Sam, and was clearly excited by the prospect of meeting a new challenge.

General Hammond informed Sam when Pam had cleared all tests, and that she was on the list of replacements. When her name came up, she'd be brought into the SGC, and the specialized indoctrination could begin. Pam was told almost the same thing, that she would be placed into the program when a slot opened up, but still wasn't told the exact nature of the program.

Pam called Sam with the good news that she was on a short list, and the two met to celebrate. Pam was almost back to the old Pam from the Academy, enjoying life and looking forward to her next assignment. Sam looked at Pam's smiling face and thought, _"If she only knew what's coming, she'd be even more excited."_

Over the next few months, Sam was busier than she could have ever imagined. Going off-world, working in her lab on the new technology which they brought back, and trying to keep the Stargate running smoothly occupied almost all her time. She did occasionally check with the general to see what Pam's status was on the replacement list, and Pam was slowly moving up. Sam didn't wish for faster movement, since many of the openings were due to the death of a team member, but she was looking forward to seeing Pam's face the first time that she saw the gate open, and her reaction after her first trip through.

Returning from a mission, Sam walked down the ramp, half-smiling at the exchange between the colonel and Daniel. It began before they entered the gate, and continued now, barely interrupted by the passage through millions of miles.

"_Honestly, I can't believe those two. The colonel goads Daniel, and Daniel defends himself. Or Daniel questions the colonel, and the colonel blows up. I keep expecting one of them to yell to mom that he's being picked on."_

She handed her weapon to the airmen standing at the base of the ramp, and noticed that General Hammond stood there looking unusually grim.

The colonel stopped short just behind her, and asked, "Something wrong, sir?"

The general waved him on, saying, "We'll debrief in an hour Colonel."

More gently, he said to Sam, "Major, there's something I need to tell you. Let's go upstairs."

Her stomach dropped as he led her to the briefing room, and her first thought was of her father.

"Sir, is it my dad?" she asked.

"No, he's fine as far as I know. It's your friend, Major Sperling. She was killed in a car accident yesterday."

Sam stared at him, too stunned to respond.

"I'm so sorry, Major. From what you and her commanding officers have told me, she was a fine officer and a wonderful woman. I'm sorry that she didn't get a chance to come on board with us."

Sam recovered enough to reply.

"Thank you, sir. But how…Do you know any of the details? Pam's an excellent driver."

"It was just a fluke accident, caused by a young father. He looked into the backseat of his car for just a moment, distracted by a crying child in a car seat. He swerved slightly, enough to swipe Major Sperling's car and force it out of control. They were on a freeway, and both cars were moving pretty fast, but not speeding, according to the highway patrol. Her car rolled and she didn't have a chance."

"What about the father and child? Were they injured badly?"

"They're fine, just a few bruises and scratches. No other cars were involved, either."

"Major, I know that she was a good friend. Skip the briefing today; go home, and contact the major's family. Let the colonel know when the services are scheduled, and we'll arrange for your leave time."

In a state of shock, Sam headed to the lockers. She quickly changed clothes and went home without talking to anyone. The general would talk to the colonel and let him know where she was. At home, she did as the general suggested and called Pam's parents in West Virginia. They sounded as shocked as she felt. They agreed to contact her as soon as arrangements were finalized. After she hung up, she poured herself a stiff drink and slumped down onto her couch.

"_After all that she went through, all the suffering, and then the hard work she did to come back – just to have it end like this. And she was right on the verge of coming into something more exciting than she could ever have dreamed. She would have loved going off-world, exploring, all of it."_

Sam managed to make it through the next awful week, spending time with Pam's parents, enduring the funeral and graveside rites, visiting with Pam's fellow officers and even some Academy classmates at a gathering after the funeral. These events were all rituals meant to bring some sense of closure, but Sam still couldn't get over the seemingly meaningless death of her closest friend. The woman had the potential to do so much more if she had lived.

As the years went by, the feeling of loss diminished, but the feeling that something precious had been stolen remained. Sam visited Pam's grave at the cemetery in West Virginia on the first anniversary of Pam's death, but hadn't gone back since. The easy excuse was her busy schedule, if she was willing to lie to herself. The truth was that she still resented Pam's death. It wasn't logical, but emotions seldom are. Visiting the grave forced her to face that resentment and examine its roots. Once she opened that particular door, who knew what other hidden feelings might come tumbling out.

Now once again standing in front of the marker after all these years, Sam realized that she had finally come to terms with Pam's death. Maybe it was just due to the length of time which had passed, or maybe it was due to the road which Sam had traveled during that time – all the deaths and pain she'd witnessed and endured. It didn't matter how Pam had died, or what she hadn't been able to do as a result; what was important was how she'd lived and what she'd accomplished while she was alive. By dwelling on her death all this time, Sam unwittingly had devalued Pam's life.

She spoke out loud, not caring that no one else would hear the words. She needed to say them.

"Pam, I'm sorry that I never got the chance to say thank you for so many things. Your friendship at school meant more to me than you ever knew. You dragged me away from my books and forced me to see that the Academy could be more than just a place to get an education and a commission, but that it was also a place to form long-term friendships and learn how to socialize with others. You showed me that I could have fun without neglecting my work."

"After we graduated, you were my touchstone. Whenever I got too wrapped up in work, all it took was a phone call to you, and I'd be laughing in no time. You never let me take myself too seriously."

"Then after you told me about your capture and imprisonment, and especially after you struggled through the trauma due to that, you inspired me. I wasn't allowed to tell you what I've been doing the last few years, but I've been in some bad situations myself at times. Whenever it happened, I thought of you and the example that you set for me."

"I've just gotten back from a really rough mission, and you were on my mind a lot. The training exercises that you ran at SERE were invaluable, but more than that, the things you told me about your captivity and what you did to persist mentally and physically helped me to survive."

Now tears spilled as Sam continued.

"Pam, you were the closest thing to a sister that I had, and I miss you tremendously. Even though you're gone, you're still a part of me. Every time that I go to a new world, your influence and spirit are with me, urging me to not only complete a mission, but to also stop for a moment and enjoy the experience."

"Thanks, Pam."

Sam lingered for a few more minutes, allowing memories of Pam to wash over her. Then she turned and walked back to the car and Teal'c.

"I'm ready to go now."

He moved to help her into the car, and she allowed it this time. She was emotionally drained by the visit, but more at ease than she'd felt in a long time.

Teal'c turned the key in the ignition, and they drove slowly past the rows of markers. He hadn't questioned her about the trip in any way, just quietly accepted her directions and provided a sense of companionship without intruding on her need for silence. But now, he sensed a change in her mood, and commented, "This is a beautiful site. Your country does well to honor its warriors in this way."

Sam nodded in agreement. "It really is nice, isn't it? I'm glad that Pam's parents chose it."

"Pam? The person you came to honor?"

Sam pondered his phrasing, and appreciated how appropriate it was. She had come to satisfy a need of her own, to confront her inability to accept Pam's death, but had ended up recalling the wonderful life that her friend had led. Sam was ready to move on, and the best way to do that was to honor Pam by sharing her history with others.

"Teal'c, haven't I ever told you about my friend Pam Sperling? Let me tell you how we met…."

_Now, it's done! Hope that you enjoyed it._


End file.
